Free Arizona Gold by Patricia Hagan Page B

is wait awhile and then ride into Tombstone, find Opal Grimes, and see if she’s arrived and living with her.”
    Kitty bit back a gasp to hear Opal’s name. So, it was true, she raged to think Opal had, for whatever reason, enticed the Apache to keep her from reaching Tombstone.
    Ryder went on, “All I can do is keep trying, Mother.” He put his arm around Pale Sky. “And I promise you when Kitty Parrish does reach Tombstone, I’ll find her and make her tell me what I want to know.”
    Hearing her own name again, Kitty yearned all the more to know what they were saying.
    “Meanwhile, you must do something with that pitiful boy,” Pale Sky said.
    Kitty could not help cringing as Whitebear and the woman turned to stare at her.
    “He needs to eat,” Ryder said. “He’s being stubborn, though. He also needs those rope burns on his wrists tended to.”
    “Bring him to my wickiup. He will eat,” Pale Sky said with a determined nod. “And then I will see to his wounds.”
    Ryder walked over to Kitty. “You will go with my mother, and you will eat. Then she will tend your wounds. After that, come to me. I sleep in that tent over there.” He pointed.
    Kitty mustered the bravado to say, “I don’t want to sleep in there. I’d rather sleep by myself.”
    “I don’t give a damn what you want,” he fired back. “But don’t worry, I don’t want you sleeping in there, either. I’ll have enough company tonight as it is. Now go with my mother, and she’ll show you how to boil water for my bath.”
    Kitty gulped, swallowed. “Your…your bath?”
    “Yes,” he said, turning away. “That’s one of the things I learned to enjoy in my father’s world—the pleasure of a hot bath, and you are going to give it to me.”

Chapter Six
    Kitty had to stoop to get through the low doorway of the dome-shaped shelter. Bear grass, brush, yucca leaves, and rushes had been placed over the framework of poles and limbs tied together for support. Canvas stretched over that, but there was an opening at the top to allow smoke to escape from the fire pit near the center.
    As she followed the Indian woman inside, a thick piece of bear fur slapped shut across the opening after them.
    The woman gestured to Kitty to sit down on the floor. Glancing about uneasily, she noted that the furnishings were sparse—animal skin rugs, crockery of different sizes and shapes, baskets filled with herbs and vegetables.
    The woman handed her a clay platter heaped with tortillas and curtly said, “Eat.”
    Kitty did so ravenously. At one of the home stations she had watched the cook as he made the stiff dough from flour, baking powder, water, and salt. He had pulled off a lump about the size of a biscuit, rolled it, then slapped it between his hands till it resembled a pancake. It had then been baked dry on the bottom of an inverted fry pan over the fire. Kitty found it a bit bland tasting but filling nonetheless.
    “My name is Pale Sky. By what name are you called, boy?”
    She repeated the lie. “Billy Mingo.”
    “And how old are you, Billy Mingo?”
    “Fifteen,” Kitty lied again. She reasoned if the Indians thought she was older they might expect her to work harder even if she was small.
    A shadow crossed Pale Sky’s face. “That is the same age as my husband when he was taken captive.” Stiffly, she added, “I wish my son had not brought you here. You will only be in the way.”
    Kitty laughed uneasily. “Well, ma’am, I’ll be glad to leave any time you say.”
    “You will stay until my son says you may go. For now, you are his slave, and you will do his bidding…and mine, as well. But if you do as you are told, I will not mistreat you. Do you understand?”
    Kitty assured her that she did, grateful that the woman seemed borderline friendly. “I will do the best I can, but I don’t know your ways. I don’t know what you want me to do.”
    “I will teach you.”
    Kitty continued to eat, although her stomach was in knots as she